


Turning Page

by SlashyUnicorn



Category: The Witcher 3 (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Wine Expansion Pack, Denial, Domestic (kind of), Edging, Enchanted Dildo, Geralt cursing (a LOT), Geralt freaking out (a LOT), M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Denial, Power Play, Regis being dramatic, Unrealistically Happy Story, but Geralt is more dramatic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashyUnicorn/pseuds/SlashyUnicorn
Summary: When Geralt agreed to meet Regis in the cemetery (a cliché, by the way. So much for Regis trying to dispel general population's belief of what vampire should be, when he was the one being so dramatic. And no, he definitelywasn'trolling his eyes. He was too mature for that), he didn’t expect to be welcomed by Kikimora, their eggs, and disgusting stenches covering the area that probably won’t be washed off his clothes until next month, at least. He certainly also didn’t expect to be confronted by Regis'sleepingform.Choosing a method easier than waking up a powerful Higher Vampire from their beauty sleep, he tried to meditate on nearby stone step, sitting on the left side of Regis’ sarcophagus (yeah, he did say something about vampire and their dramatic flair), and closed his eyes.Three hours later, he came out from meditation, and look and behold. Regis, in all his vampire glory, was still sleeping.Regis, come on, we don't have time for this.





	1. Sleeping Beauty

When Geralt agreed to meet Regis in the cemetery (a cliché, by the way. So much for Regis trying to dispel general population's belief of what vampire should be, when he was the one being so dramatic. And no, he definitely _wasn't_ rolling his eyes. He was too mature for that), he didn’t expect to be welcomed by Kikimora, their eggs, and disgusting stenches covering the area that probably won’t be washed off his clothes until next month, at least. He certainly also didn’t expect to be confronted by Regis'  _sleeping_ form.

He slept so peacefully in front of him (who, by reputation, was one of the most dangerous Witcher out there) as if he was in the safest hand possible. That was...unusually careless of him. What if the one who showed up was those Kikimora workers? Or worse, another Witcher? He sighed. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, Regis needed that sleep so badly after being stabbed in the heart, that he barely had any time to lock the front door of the cemetery (but didn't cover the cave entrance).

Choosing a method easier than waking up a powerful Higher Vampire from their beauty sleep, he tried to meditate on nearby stone step, sitting on the left side of Regis’ sarcophagus (yeah, he _did_  say something about vampire and their dramatic flair), and closed his eyes.

Three hours later, he came out from meditation, and look and behold. Regis, in all his vampire glory, was still sleeping.  _Regis, come on, we don't have time for this._

Decided he had to do something after all, lest Dettlaff strikes again in their time of rest, he walked to the coffin, trying to carefully shook Regis’s shoulder. “Regis, hey. Wake up, sleeping beauty.” It was slow, at first, since a surprise of vampire claws weren't something he wanted anywhere near his face, but when he _still_ won’t wake up, _harder_. 

Pinching his nose won’t work, cause Vampire have no need for air. Neither did pinching his skin, cheek, or slapping him hard on his face. He did get a twitch from the hands, which have  _very_ sharp fingernails. That almost gave him a heart attack. Almost. Because to be honest, literally risking his head to wake his friend was _not_ how he wanted to go. He began to worry. Did something happen to Regis while he was off to do some stuff around the Continent? Perhaps he shouldn’t have joined that Skellige card tournament after all…

Pursing his lips, he scanned his friend's whole body, examining any hint on how to proceed. He stopped when he got to Regis' face. He looked so, well, peaceful. He was already peaceful in his nature (a very odd vampire, him), but in his sleep, his brow lines looked evened, and he looked...younger, somehow, despite the grey and white of his hairs. Never one to resist temptation, Geralt removed his gloves, his fingers moved to stroke Regis’ face. How his friend managed to maintain a skin so soft was beyond him. He’s older than Geralt by 400 years, at least. Perhaps regeneration?

His fingers then made their way down to the neck, where vulnerable vein laid unprotected. Regis didn’t even flinch. This situation might be bad, and Geralt should really do something about it rather than standing here touching his friend in a non-friendly way. Uh, that sounded really weird when he actually thought about it.

They continued up and up towards his lips. It was pale, much paler to be deemed healthy by human standard. But he _was_ dead. Sort of. If compared biologically to human and some other living being.

Geralt sighed again. He ran his palm on his face. Why was he here, being creepy towards _Regis_ for fuck sake (and with so many stories around, it _should_ be the opposite). But Regis was nothing but gentle and respectful towards every living being he found unless it was necessary in his friends' self-defence. 

Looking back at Regis' still form, he can’t help but move his hand back to stroke Regis’ cheek, his sideburns felt so plush it was almost unreal. His chest twinged. Something he has yet to admit out loud resurfaced. At least inside the space of his own mind, he knew what it was, that he might held Regis in a more...amorous regard.

That guy was such an anomaly. He was a vampire, but he tried to bridge relationship between his kind and human (which was, now Geralt think about it from another vampire's perspective, equivalent of human trying to bridge relationship with, say, a goat. And wasn’t _that_ hilarious). He was kind. Calm. Patient. Even to Witchers who hunted many of his kind. He had to admit, there was a lot of unjustified hunt happening to non-human creatures out there, but somehow Regis wasn't like any other in their general prejudice of Witchers.

Obviously fascination quickly turned into affection. Which kind of a regular thing happening around him. Geralt The Idiot, Love-Struck Witcher, falling in love with someone he can never have. Again.

For Triss, her rebellion and mage's revival was too important. She'll risk everything, from the fate of non-humans to Geralt's love.

For Shani, family was what she wanted. He understood. Witcher life was simply too much for her.

And Yen...ah, well, let's just say that he will always hold her dear in his heart.

For Regis, there was this huge gap of him being a monster slayer (and also not immortal), which meant that Regis could get someone so much better than him.

He remembered that time when the other died. All Geralt felt was pain. Anger. Sadness. His determination, and intense emotions, usually managed to be held back by the teaching and chemical of The Trial, made him able to kill the mage Vilgefortz (who was in truth, way more powerful than he was). His attempt to move on to other failed, as the memory of Regis hunted his dream. Now he was back, bringing all the stuff he buried long ago with him.

He tried stop this, he really did, but when Regis somehow _leaned_ into his touch and sighed, pleased, when again Geralt stroke his cheek, what he did instead was leaned down and give in to the impulse to kiss the soft-looking lips.

It felt unusually cold, but no less pleasant, feeling as silky-smooth as he would’ve expected. It was then that he felt Regis’ eyes suddenly snapped open, felt his mouth opening unconsciously, a gasp of surprise that quickly swallowed into Geralt’s mouth when he deepened the kiss, exploring the inside of Regis’ mouth and tracing the edge of sharp teeth, _very_ careful not to press too deep.

Regis’ moaned, hand sneaking to grab the back of Geralt’s head, which in turn forced Geralt to straddle Regis’ waist for a better angle. They continued to kiss, both hands exploring each other’s shoulder. Chest. Regis' hands grabbing his own a little bit harder. Which was when Geralt’s conscience started waking up.

 _Oh shit._ He was kissing his friend. His _vampire_ friend. Who was _sleeping_ at the time, and therefore, cannot consent to the kiss, no matter his immediate reaction of kissing him back. Fucking hell, this was another level of creepiness altogether.

Pulling back quickly, he wanted to apologise, to make excuses that he knew won’t work, because despite his stiff, less emotional face, his heart was beating fast in his chest, and he was pretty sure Regis could hear it as loud and clear as any other sound. “I'm sor—“

A pair of lips cut his apology off before it could be uttered and kissing him with such impatient fervour that it knocked the breath out of his lungs. Geralt grunted, falling down and accidentally putting the weight of his whole body down of Regis’. It was as if a flame being lit from the inside. Regis groaned loudly, his hips jerked towards Geralt, pressing his clothed groin into Geralt’s own. And his cock was definitely _hard_. Geralt’s own hard cock traitorously twitched in response.

_Huh._

Both were still fully clothed, but with his enhanced senses, Geralt could feel their erection grinding against each other’s beneath the soft material of their pants, just like when there was no barrier at all. It was as if the moment stopped. Just him, and Regis’ body warming up from Geralt’s body heat.

He felt rather than see when Regis’ was near. His body tensed up, could see the vein visible in his pale neck when he pulled back a little from the kiss. Vampire might not need air, but a Witcher certainly did, and he panted from the strain, catching his breath near Regis’ neck. His mouth moved towards the vein before he can't stop himself. He bit into the vein, lightly, but the reaction from the other was instant. Regis' hips convulsed. Geralt could feel wetness quickly seeping from the other’s pants into his, while litany of curses and chocked moan could be heard nearby (oh look, Regis _could_ swear, after all). Geralt bit it again, this time harder, and the shuddering gasp Regis made was maddening. It made Geralt wanted to do more than what he was allowed at the moment. Around him he could feel fingers tightened on his tunic, could feel sharp nails digging into his shoulder, skittering on the edge of pain, but not enough to break skin. He did felt them all, among the gasps and moans, how Regis' fingers trembled from effort of holding himself back. Even in the throes of passion, Regis’ body unconsciously tried not to hurt him.

 _That_ was what threw him over the edge. Spilling in his pants like some youngster making out in the dark. Actually, you know what, they both did, and he can’t help but laugh because _a Witcher and Higher Vampire making out and coming in their pants in a_ _cemetery_  sounds too _bizarre_  even for him (and really fucking kinky. He never thought he had another weird-ass kink, not after that flexible unicorn sex with Yennefer).

When he looked up, Regis was frowning lightly, his look as if chiding Geralt. “This is hardly a situation for such laugh, I would think.” And Geralt’s laugh might not stop, but it died down to a chuckle out of respect. “I’m not laughing at you. But this situation of us being who we are, making out like teenagers inside a coffin when your friend was out on a killing spree is just too hilarious.”

There it was, that fond look that always managed to throw him off. "You have a weird sense of humour, my friend." _Nothing, don't read more into it, Geralt. Just smile. Play it cool._

"I know you're laughing on the inside too, Regis, don't lie. But I'm gonna let it slide and admit that yes, you know I always do." He gave a quick peck on Regis' lips, which turned into another short, making-out session. _I don't want this to end._

“Well, I, for one, was not the one who started it.” He raised his eyebrows, daring Geralt to explain. It was his usual way of coercing Geralt into doing something he wanted him to do. He gave a last kiss on Regis’ lips, drawing it out until he could feel Regis’ body relax under his touch. _Please don't make me say it._

“Well, Regis, but you look so cute in your sleep." He grinned. _Yes. Cool. Great, Geralt._ "How can I resist?"

Inclining his head, Regis gave him an opened look of surprise. “Really? My dead-looking vampire lips tempted you that much? Should I worry where those lips of yours have been?”

Geralt snorted. “Relax, you're the only one for me.” He smirked. "For now." But that seemed to be the wrong answer.

Instead of quipping another witty remark like he used to, Regis laid there silently, letting Geralt climbed down from the coffin. He grimaced. The stickyness in his pants felt uncomfortable, but he had been in worse situation before (deep inside a monster’s guts, to be precise) so he shrugged it off. Eh, it’ll dry up soon enough. 

Getting up slowly, Regis still avoided looking into his eyes. “Regis? What's wrong?”

When Regis shook his head, lifting it to look at Geralt in the eye, he could sense that his friend was uncomfortable about something. “Does this mean we are...exclusive? Sex friends? Because if so, I am sorry, Geralt. I am afraid I do not do casual sex very well. Tended to be too...attached.”

_Did he say what I think he just say? No, don't get your hopes up._

“You’re the one who dragged me down to deepen the kiss.” He didn’t mean to sound like he was accusing him, because he wasn't, he just wanted _—_ he didn't know what he wanted. But it must be, since Regis flinched (barely noticeable, he hide it well). “You’re the one who kissed me in the first place.” He said, raising his voice a little bit. Regis _never_ raised his voice before. He was always in control of his emotions.

“It’s because you—“ Geralt stopped himself. They weren't children. Time to stop beating around the bush.

Could he say that out in the open? Will it make it more real if he said it out loud? Will Regis _accept_ the truth? Geralt _was_ a Witcher. And while he was a Higher Vampire, and one of Geralt’s closest friend, it was still possible for him to die in Geralt’s hands, and if Geralt wanted, he could find hundreds of ways for his remains not to be found for any other Higher Vampire to be revived. Geralt _had_ that power.

He...needed to sit down for this. _God, this is stressful._  He chose to lean back on the wall instead. “It’s because you looked so unguarded. Peaceful.” He wiped his face with his newly gloved hands. “I’m sorry for...attacking you when you’re vulnerable. It was shitty of me, and as your friend, I should’ve known better.” Now he felt like an asshole.

“No, Geralt—“

He raised his hand. “Wait, I need to finish this.” He had to say it. He was going to say it. Any minute now.

_Come on, Geralt. You can do this. Look at Regis face, that curious eyes, probably waiting for you to say it._

_He can’t._

What he did instead (because fuck, killing Ghoul was easier than admitting that you may have fallen for your vampire friend. Right in front of said vampire friend). “Can we talked about this some other time? We do have a more pressing matter to attend to.” Geralt folded his arms, determined that nope, him and feelings really not working out very well. "Please?" If his emotion was this bad while repressed, he didn’t want to find out how it was if it wasn’t. Life with your emotion running rampaged didn’t sound like a fun concept.

Regis, obviously, didn’t look too happy about it. He opened his mouth, seemingly to protest, but he closed it again, knew better not to argue with Geralt when he made up his mind about something. “Very well.”

It sounded more like _we will talk about this later_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tittle taken from : Turning Page by Sleeping at Last
> 
> I like that song way, way before I wrote this fic, but somehow, listening to it made me think about Regis and the long, long years he had lived, and what if Geralt is that one "spark" he found which make everything interesting again and I'm just sad because oh god why can't we romanced Regis (or even any other male character because hot damn, Olgierd tho)
> 
> Completely self indulgent Witcher fic because sigh, Yen and Triss are hot, sure, but what I want is for Geralt to settle down with a certain silver fox Higher Vampire, okay.
> 
> Only did light editing, since it's not finished yet. Still trying to work out my schedule to edit more of the parts I have.


	2. When You Wish Upon a Star (Anything Your Heart Desires Will Come To You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow, editing this much took up to 2 weeks. Idk about the rest because holy shit, that moment when you keep adding up stuff even after you have already wrote the ending.
> 
> And I still haven't even get to the story part that I want to make a major change of. So here's a chapter of just talking. Yep. Talking and drinking and sexy times.

They _did_ talk about this later.

Much to Geralt’s protest, they had to wait for Regis’ raven to scour the land for any creatures that he mentioned. When asked to pass the time, he was about to say nap, since his erection, still uncomfortably trapped in his tight leather pants from hearing that faint, barely noticeable shaky moan (which was obviously loud and clear in a Witcher's ears) won’t seem to die down. He had a fucking hard on in middle of a mausoleum from a voice that this particular vampire let out when smelling a goddamn severed hand. This was his life, right there, and no matter any kind of horrible, disgusting vision he forced himself to remember, that blasted thing still going strong. That...probably said something about his sex drive. Thankfully, his long outer coat covered most of it. Even when he was pretty sure Regis could smell his arousal from miles away.

When his friend dared him with that quirk of his eyebrows, staring at him a kind of expression that was hard to read, Geralt knew he won’t be able to say no to his invitation to drink. Always had a way of convincing him with just a look. Besides, he won’t ever pass the chance to taste Regis’ Mandrake concoction. That thing was some high quality stuff. Thank heaven this one wasn't the full dose or else he'll be too drunk to control himself. 

“I remember your Mandrake hooch. Made people say things they’d have rather kept to themselves.” Perhaps he could take a light snifter. _No problem. No problem at all_ , he convinced himself.

Hint of sharp fangs flashed from the other's grin. “Now what would Geralt of Rivia prefer to keep to himself?” oh _fuck,_  Regis was always entirely too curious for his own good.

He drank it fast, anxious, letting the first gulp burned through his throat a little. _You, in particular_. But that wasn't gonna say it.  _Fool me once, lack of impulse. Not going to let you fool me twice._ “So, think you’ve set a nice little trap for me? Sorry, wanna get me to confess? Gonna have to try harder.” he said that, but what he meant was g _ive up already._

Instead of backing up, of course Regis _chuckled_. “I love a challenge.” Yeah, he knew. Investing himself in stuff he didn't know, eyes often too bright with interest. “In that case, my ears are cocked – what must I do?”

 _Regis, you persistent bastard._ “Hm...” _think harder, Geralt. Distract him._ “How about you get the ball rolling, reveal one of your secrets? Vampires – intriguing creatures, must lead fascinating lives.”

He shrugged, passing over the bottle and deliberately letting their fingers touched. Geralt managed to control his violent twitch perfectly. “Anything in particular interest you?”

Running through his head, he found many things about vampire intrigued him. Their physiology, their abilities, their culture; even more so before they mingled with humans. But what he asked instead, was a personal questions. Maybe even _too_ personal. “Let's see. Are there a particular bed warmer you get attached to in the past few years? A nice vampire girl for a wife maybe?” He repeated it many times in his head, Regis' love life was not his business. He had no say in it. Nothing will happen that'll make him have any say in it. And yet...

Regis cocked his head back at him.  _Interesting_ , that was what he was thinking. Was he that predictable?

“No.” and it was like a weight has been lifted from his chest. “But.” there was _more?_  “I have someone I am currently interested in.”

Ah.

“Yeah?” his fist clenched, as he quickly lost interest in this entire conversation. His friend probably had it all planned. A nice, simple wedding with a decent vampire girl, no less than what he deserved. Maybe she was a red head. _Like Oriana_.

Why would his traitorous mind got jealous of something he didn't have to begin with? Friendship. It was all that his friend was ready to give. And maybe tolerate his overrated sex impulse that drove him to do whatever the hell that was before.

Though it  _might_ be interest that he had shown back in the tomb, there was that other possibilities, the one with the higher probability, that Regis was simply curious. Sex with a Witcher was just like any other subject that Regis interested in. Intriguing and new. No need to read more into it.

Maybe he should stop having sex with so many women. Sexual prowess of Witcher was sometimes too disturbingly exaggerated.

( _Thanks, Yen._ )

He clenched his fingers on the bottle. “What does she look like?” she would probably be pretty. The same just idealism like him. Patient. A herbalist, maybe. Hah. A vampire herbalist. Ridiculous. As ridiculous as the concept of barber vampire. They'll fit right with each other; opened a nice, flower shop together, on the edge of town. Quiet, beautiful—

"I never said that it was a 'she'."

And with that one sentence, he almost rendered the Witcher's speechless. Almost. "Alright, so your lover is a male. Don't worry, I won't judge." He wiped his sweaty palm secretly on his coat, hoping Regis won't notice. It was different when he knew he didn't have any chance, but this just made things more complicated. "It's all fine."

Regis was amused. "I know it is." He was looking at him straight to his eyes with that _look_ again. _What does that mean?_

"I tried many times to get him to realize my affection. Touches, words. They all flew by his head unnoticed." He sighed. "Recently, I thought he knew, since he took the initiative for once. But, alas, it was not the case." Shrugging, he swiped the Mandrake bottle to take a sip. "Sometimes I think it might be because I am not interesting enough. At least compared to his other lovers."

That was just stupid. Regis was one of the most affectionate, loyal, and captivating people he has ever met. He didn't understand. To not notice such affection, such devotion, that man must be—

Oh.

_Oh._

_Shit._

_No._

_Really?_

Fucking hell. People always _did_ say he was too focused on his job to notice anything else.

He realised sitting there with his disbelief look, and jaw slacked in surprise made him look like an idiot. An oblivious idiot. Though his head was filled with so many thoughts at once, each and every one calculating and assessing the situation, he found that for once, he honestly didn't know how to deal with this extraordinary creature in front of him, who offered to him the one thing he desired.

It almost like he was in a dream-like state. Maybe this was all an illusion, and he was still there, back in Ermion's workshop in Skellige, with Yennefer laughing her ass off at his miserable self. Anyone asked him, he won't deny, that despite her pretty face and charming attitude, she _was_ capable of such feat of petty revenge.

"Geralt?"

When he look back, Regis was still looking at him with that patient and inquisitive look. Expecting an answer, surely, and Geralt will certainly give him one. He owed him that much, at least.

Instead of that, however, he answered, "Uh. Um. I. Yes?" Of fucking course he had to be a bumbling idiot _now_.

Regis, thankfully not laughing at his dumb display of act, put the bottle he was holding. He took his hand in his own cold one, that somehow felt warm to Geralt. "So. What do you think I should do? Should I pursue this man's affection?"

He didn't dare to look back at Regis' eyes, trying to casually look at the connected hands instead. "Don't know. Sure you can handle him? Think I know who you're talking about though." He dared a glance. "Heard he's a dick."

Continuing forward might be him digging his own grave, but he _had_ to know. "His life's also not as fascinating as you think. You might not like what you find deep down."

Then he smirked, hiding his nervousness behind it. "Whatever you heard about the unicorn, it's definitely not true. Probably."

This time he laughed, and with a smile pulled the hand that he was holding. He kissed it, with an unexpected tenderness that made Geralt's heart clenched hard in his chest. Damn. He was too fucking gone for this vampire. 

"Thankfully, I have an experience dealing with stubborn-head Witcher, so no need to worry about me."

He then moved closer, "Besides," he said, cold breath from his mouth surrounded Geralt's ear and made him shivered. "It is a nice dick."

Geralt gasped, letting out a surprised laugh. "You just have to say that, don't you?" He cannot _fucking believe—_

Turning his head, he captured the vampire's lips in a kiss, letting his feelings poured into it. Regis kissed back with the same force, wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck.

He followed his instinct then, trapping the vampire’s body between the stone and his own body, letting him know how much he missed him, how much he wanted him for the longest of time through the kiss. When they parted he too could see the similar tent on the other's pants. He licked his lips, still wet and feeling a little bit sore from the make out session. The kisses was certainly more bruising than with a human.

As he gave him a last gentle peck on the lips, his friend urged lightly him onto the ground, eyes looking a little black around the edges, surprising Geralt with his inability to be in control. Regis seemed to do that a lot around him.

"You're supposed to be the reasonable one. We're in the middle of a murder case, right now." He said, exasperated. Look at him, with his prim and proper attitude for once. Vesemir would be proud.

Regis raised his eyebrows, as if saying _So what?_ "Geralt." He exaggeratedly sighed. "Are you saying I'm all work and no play?" One suggestive look was all that it took. Geralt groaned. Yeah, _alright_.

He knelt on the ground, ignoring the other's chuckle as he set aside the vampire's outer jacket and pulled the front of the pants down, revealing Regis’ pale cock, half-hard already. It was surprisingly long and thick for one attached to a lean body. Geralt begin from the top, licking lightly as he look up directly to Regis’ eyes to gauge his reaction. He didn't exactly do this often. There wasn't a lot of men that he trust enough to be able to do something intimate with, and doing it with a complete stranger could be dangerous, especially with the racism around Witchers.

The moment was like how he imagined it would be. Regis tried to held his voice back, even when there was no one around, biting his lips with his sharp front teeth. They bleed a little, but he licked it back before it came running down his chin. Geralt sucked a little bit harder after that.

Throwing his head back, his friend let out a shaky breath when Geralt started to earnestly suck. He can't help but letting out his voice, keening high when he lightly scraped a sensitive vein with his teeth. Slowly, and unconsciously it seemed, his hand wormed his way onto Geralt’s hair, stroking it with a light pat. His hairband quickly fell out, and the vampire let out a pleased hum at it, combing his hair to his heart content.

“Your hair.” He panted. “It is surprisingly soft.”

Geralt hummed, the vibration making the hold on his hair tightened. He moaned again in response. Huh. Hair kink. Another one he stored in his vast collection of kinks that he didn't know he had. Meanwhile, Regis’ eyes started to go halfway black, clouded with heavy lust. Sweats runing down his forehead. It was a good look on him. He'd love to see it more often.

Feeling pre-cum started to make its way out of the slit, Geralt sucked the it hard, just abusing the head of the cock and the little hole on top with his tongue. Regis come apart so hard after that. His thigh trembled, as he shot his come right there inside the Witcher's throat, almost chocking him when the cock automatically slid in deeper with the move of the hips, the tip almost hitting the back of his throat.

He swallowed every last drop. The taste and smell of the vampire's fluid was different than humans. Still bitter, yes, but somehow lacking that tangy taste, tasting instead like herbs and roots that his friend used to mask his scents. The smell that was distinctly Regis, that Geralt almost come right there, overwhelmed by his stronger sense of smell, as he groaned and rubbed his cheek on one of Regis’ thighs in contentment.

The comfortable silence was interrupted when they were both startled by a raven’s croak. It flapped its wings impatiently, perching itself on nearby tombstone. Geralt frowned. “What is it?”

Regis concentrated on the raven's sound. The creatures kept croaking loudly. “It said it found one of the creature you mentioned.”

 _Seriously, now?_ He got cockblocked by a fucking raven. Great. Geralt sighed. “Then we probably should—“ he stopped when he saw Regis whispering, dismissing the bird with his influence. He was surprised when Regis dragged him up for a kiss, uncaring of the taste of his own in Geralt’s mouth, instead of immediately getting the dangerous concoction ready.

"Uh, what, Regis—"

“Yes. We should—we should probably move inside.”

_Wait what?_

He turned into a black smoke, carried Geralt, bridal style, as fast as his cloud form could take, and laid him down on the fairly decent cot on the corner of the mousoleum, not far from the sarcophagus from before. Geralt blinked. “If you have a cot then why sleep on the coffin?” _Yes, Geralt because that's the most interesting thing here. Stop getting distracted by unnecessary thing._

“I was not sleeping.” He said, while shedding his clothes one by one. Geralt followed suit. “It was a ritual that helped rejuvenate my regenerative cells, since I have not fully recovered from being obliterated by Vilgefortz.” Doing a double take on Geralt’s confused look, he frowned. “You don't think vampire really sleep on the coffin, do you? While It was a nice place for rituals, it _is_ a stone. Hardly comfortable place to sleep, don’t you think?” after a while, he raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh. You do.”

“You can hardly blame me.” Geralt said sullenly. “Found that one vampire who slept on it. He punched me in the face when I accidently woke him up. Not exactly what I call a pleasant experience."

"Obviously. Sleeping or meditating, any living being would be annoyed when their time to relax was interrupted, yes?"

"I guess." Distracted by Regis' naked body, he let himself pulled onto the cot. They went back on the same position, him straddling Regis, this time on a softer surface. "But there’s also other evidence. Found a lot of vampire’s remains in an abandoned coffin. Some even had pillow and blanket in it.”

Regis eyes softened. “Would you like know why I did not wake up when you call out to me before? Vampires is usually easily woken up from meditative ritual, to prevent being attacked by other creatures. But," he paused, running his hands appreciatively around Geralt's back, making him gasped when those palms squeezed his ass for a while.

"Because it was _you_. You, whom I gave my full trust. I know you would never anything that endangered the safety of my well being.” He kissed Geralt's forehead softly, trailing kisses all the way to his lips. "Those vampire remains you found probably the one killed by their own kind in doing their ritual. They have been...dealt with."

That was—a lot. It was rare, almost impossible for powered non-human, especially vampire, to trust a Witcher, but here he was, with a vampire that said he trusted Geralt with his life. For someone who went through a horrible trials to suppress all emotions, the overwhelming something that he didn't dare to name yet almost choked him up from the inside.

He decided to change it to lighter conversation, since him bawling his eyes out in front of Regis was definitely not an option. “So you heard and feel everything, but just decided you want to have a ritual nap instead? I mean, it’s not like we have a murderous killer on our hands.”

“He is calculating his next move. I know him, Geralt. He will not move until at least day after tomorrow. We still have time to do _a lot of things._ ” He said suggestively, grinding his pelvis slightly up. Geralt grind his hips equally down.

It was then that Regis blinked, as if he remembered something. “So. I did feel your hand shaking my shoulder, sleeping beauty.”

Geralt ducked his head in embarrassment. “Ah. You heard. You could've just say something if you don’t want me to woke you up.” Regis kissed forehead repeatedly, coaxing him to look up so he could kiss him properly.

“I thought you will get bored of poking and prodding me eventually, then do your quest thing, and when you come back, I will be out of my meditative state.” He smirked. “I hardly thought you would kissed me awake like a damsel instead.”

“Yeah? Never heard of the story of Sleeping Beauty?” head moving forward, his lips leaned over Regis’s lips but not moving further.

“Seemed my memory failed me on the matter. Perhaps you should enlightened me.” Looking directly into Geralt’s eyes, he dared him once again. Inviting.

“Well. It all started with _this_.” and proceed to kiss the hell out of Regis' lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically this the reason this fic happen is because there's a disturbing lack of finished Geralt/Regis fic. Like even there are only 4 of the unfinished one. Sigh.
> 
> Geralt/Vernon? They have this one : http://archiveofourown.org/works/493305
> 
> Geralt/Iorveth? They have this one : http://archiveofourown.org/works/2330591
> 
> Geralt/Emhyr? They have one of my fave author writing it : astolat http://archiveofourown.org/series/621487
> 
> Geralt/Regis? No completed one. Or maybe even Geralt/Olgierd? This one even non-existent, ugh
> 
> But seriously though, read all of them. They're so great for those rare ships, you'll cry with a tear of happiness.


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